Promises That Feel Like Scars
by annaisadinosaur
Summary: Lily Evans was a mystery that Sirius Black was not to indulge in - so she said, anyways. Promises, after all, are not always meant to be kept. / A late night conversation between a prefect and a troublemaker, with a little bit of firewhiskey.


**Promises That Feel Like Scars**

**x**

The fire was loud, but not nearly loud enough because Sirius was not nearly drunk enough. He always knew when he was too drunk, because the fire would crack all funnily and it would sound like firecrackers in his ears, and he'd panic and drown the fireplace with water and then sit in front of the smoldering flame with a glazed over look, wondering why wet ash looked so much like chocolate.

Rationally, Sirius knew none of that made sense and very likely it wasn't even true; after all, he thought that getting drunk made things _quieter_, or at least that's what it was supposed to do. And ash was white, and chocolate was brown, and ash smelled funny, and chocolate smelled like happiness. Nonetheless, even if it wasn't true, it was very true for him, and he still had half a bottle of firewhiskey left till the fire was screaming obscenities at him.

"Black?" came a voice suddenly, and Sirius flinched, swearing internally. "What are you doing? Did you just curse at me?"

"No."

"Yes, you did." It was Lily Evans that descended the staircase, and she stood in front of him with a puzzled look on her face. "You called me a ponce."

He met her eyes slowly, and after a long pause, said, "Oh."

"What are you _doing_?" she repeated, voice rising as she unsuccessfully made a swipe for his bottle. "Are you drinking in the common room?"

"No," he said, indecorously raising the firewhiskey to his mouth and knocking his head back.

"I could take points for that," she reminded him, and he pretended like he hadn't heard her. "Come on, why are you down here?"

He lowered the bottle and wiped his lips with his wrist. "Because, dear Evans, life is a _goddamn_ ponce."

The already dull conversation suddenly fell torpid, and Lily hesitated. Then, slowly impinged with curiosity, she sat herself beside him on the sofa. "Why?"

He made a point of drinking noisily so he wouldn't have to answer her right away. And then when he came up for breath, he decided not to answer her at all. "Why are you here? It's past your bedtime, little miss prefect."

She sighed wearily, sinking into the cushions. "That is a mystery we shall not indulge in tonight."

He nodded. "Likewise."

"Oh, that's not fair," she said. "I _did_ ask first, and you're the one drinking in front of a prefect."

"I am a grand advocate of the 'ladies first' ideal in all areas of my life," he retaliated simply.

"I'm not telling you, Black. I've got nothing to answer for."

Nonchalantly: "All right, then."

"Yeah... All right, then."

"Were you crying?"

"What?"

He indicated to her face. "Your eyes. They're red. I just noticed."

"Er – I – no."

"Well, now your _face_ is red." He snorted. "Come on, what's up?"

"I'm _not_ –"

"Save your breath for the story of what's brought you to tears, will you?"

"I –" She caught the stubborn look in his eyes, and relented. "Fine. It's my sister."

"You have a sister?" he asked, though he didn't seem too interested. "I've got a brother. Small world."

Her eyes travelled to the floor. "She's getting married," she told him absently.

"Oh. My brother's probably never getting married. Can't imagine the bird that would want to endure _that_." He laughed at his own joke, but Lily didn't get it.

"She wrote me a letter today saying that I needed to get my dress, but not to get a blue dress because blue is what her bridesmaids are wearing."

"My brother looks terrible in blue. Better in green, I think."

"She – she _knows_ blue is my favorite color."

"I bet Reg has never wondered what my favorite color was. Reckon he doesn't even know my middle name..."

"And... I don't care about the dress, I don't care if I've got to wear some horrendous pink and I don't care if it clashes with my hair... what am I going to do when people ask me how I'm related to the bride and then ask why her sister isn't wearing a _bridesmaid's dress_?"

Sirius blinked. "So it is about the dress then?"

Flustered, she looked to him wildly and cried, "I thought you were bloody talking about your brother!"

"Well, I was, but you confused me, and I didn't know how to relate that to my brother. I'll admit I don't pay too much attention to my brother, but I don't _think_ he wears dresses..."

Forgetting him again altogether, she continued ruefully, "I'm her _sister_!"

"Suppose so, though you could have it tested, probably."

"I'm her sister, and she practically wrote, 'I hate you' in fat red all over that rotten letter..."

"My brother hates me. Has since he was born. It happens." He shrugged.

"No, but she didn't always hate me!" Her voice broke then and she frantically ran her hands through her hair. "It wasn't always like this. We were- were _friends_ once, and then I came here, and everything changed. And it's because I'm a witch, because I go to this school that she hates –" And she broke off suddenly, staring at with Sirius with wide eyes. For a moment, he wondered if she'd forgotten what she was going to say, but when she broke into loud tears the next moment, he was thoroughly convinced otherwise. "Oh, God! It's because I'm here, talking to you right now... it's all my fault! I – I made my choice, and I didn't choose her, and I –"

Rubbing his temples, Sirius asked, "What the _hell_ are you saying? That you chose to be magical? Because the last time I checked, none of us got a bloody choice on the matter."

"I could have stayed... I just wanted to be special, and Sev, he was telling me all those wonderful things about the school, and I remember thinking about her, but only in glances, because it was so exciting for _me_..."

"Evans! Would you snap out of it? If she hates you for being magical, she's a _ponce_. Get over it. She isn't worth your time."

"I don't even know what a ponce is!" Lily shouted without restraint, succumbing to her sobs. "I screwed everything up, and there's nothing I can do, she's going to get married and nothing will ever be the same – she'll send me ugly vases for the rest of my life and I'll put them in the back closet and then I'll have to run to get them before she comes to visit and then maybe I'll drop it on the ground and it will shatter and she'll ask where that vase is and I'll have to say that it broke and I –"

"Lily," Sirius said slowly, and at first she didn't hear him until he said, "Lily, she didn't choose _you_."

The words stopped running from her mouth, and she blinked, tears subsiding. "What? What do you mean?"

"She made the choice. You didn't. It wasn't that you didn't choose her; she didn't choose you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she told him. "That doesn't make sense."

"But it does – it's true, and you know it. You're not sad because _you _messed it up. You're sad because you forced her to make a choice, and she didn't choose you."

There was a lull that fell over the both of them, and Sirius's words settled deep into her skin as she turned to stare at the fire. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, again and again and again, _she didn't choose you_.

"Am I right?"

She didn't say anything.

With a small intake of breath, Sirius sat up straighter. "When I was eight, I went outside to play with the muggle neighbors. My parents always told me not to, but I did it anyways, because I was bored of reading that stupid wall with all the names...

"He caught me when I was coming back inside. My brother. He was seven, and he ran and told my parents, telling me, 'I told you so, I told you not to go, I _told_ you to listen to Mum and Dad...' and when my dad hit me over the head, that's all I could hear, '_I told you so_.'"

Lily glanced at him and said, "Well, good thing they don't know you're talking to me."

He almost smiled as his gaze drifted to the ceiling. "Did you know I left home at the beginning of last summer?"

Her eyes widened slightly. "No... you... where'd you go?"

"The Potters'. It's temporary." He shook his head. "But before I left, my brother caught me again. I thought about lying to him, but I decided it wasn't worth the trouble either way, so I told him I was running away and that he could go on and tattle, because it was the only thing he was good at."

Lily frowned.

"He told me that it was my fault; he said if I hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor that I wouldn't be this way, that we'd be different, him and I."

She caught a breath and fixed her gaze on the wall. Before he could say anything else, she said, "And it was _his_ choice."

He chose not to reply directly and said, "I've always thought of families like promises. Promises are made with every intention of being kept, but sometimes you just can't."

Slowly she gathered her knees to her chest, and they both sat in silence and stared at the fire, musing on that same thought: _Sometimes you just can't_. After a while, Lily stirred gently and said, "Why are you down here, Sirius?"

He twirled the bottle in his hand, letting the sloshes of the firewhiskey against the glass speak for him while he could not summon the words. At length he said, "It's my brother's birthday."

She seemed satisfied with the answer, and didn't press any further. "Who would have known we'd ever have something in common? You and I, all alone in the world."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, and without thinking it through, he handed her the bottle of firewhiskey. She looked at it and took it similarly without much thought. "Who knew?" he said, allowing himself to be slightly amused at the sight of the prefect.

After downing a modest swallow, she returned the bottle and said gingerly, "Thanks, you know."

He smiled this time, wry but real. "I know." And in the quiet of the night, their words still lingering about like musky air, they watched the fire as two twin flames slowly merged into one.

**x**

**A/N:** I really, really badly want to write a companion piece to this, because as much as James/Lily is my OTP, Sirius/Lily will _always_ be my biggest guilty pleasure like ever ever. It's such a dangerous allure. Sigh. This one focuses just on the bud of a friendship between them, though you may read into that last line as much as you want if you so desire.. :)

Thanks for reading. Reviews are beautiful, happy spring mornings and a wonderful, happy Easter! :) (Yes, Happy Easter, though this really doesn't fit that theme at all... *shrug*)


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